


A Stolen Heart

by PsychedelicShips



Series: My Sanders Sides one shots [23]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Whump, this is probably the angstyist thing ive written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:00:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28091316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PsychedelicShips/pseuds/PsychedelicShips
Summary: Remus is driven out of the town.
Relationships: Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Thomas Sanders
Series: My Sanders Sides one shots [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1846756
Comments: 13
Kudos: 12





	A Stolen Heart

**Author's Note:**

> this is just. super angsty. yall really gotta read the warning sdjhdfjkshf

A knocking at his door interrupted Remus’s time with his lover. 

“I could just ignore it,” Remus grumbled to Thomas.

“It could be important,” Thomas replied, none too pleased with the interruption. 

“You’re right,” Remus sighed and pulled on his clothes, leaving Thomas in the bedroom. 

“What is it?” Remus opened the door to see someone in a traveler's cloak standing at his threshold. 

“Apologies, sir, but I was looking for a place to stay the night, and-”

Remus turned around as a scream came from the bedroom. He slammed the door closed and ran, wide-eyed and frantic. Throwing the door open, he bared his fangs as he saw a broken window and Thomas pinned to the floor by two burly village men. 

“Let him go. Now.” Remus demanded, hissing. 

“You’ve corrupted him,” one of the men said, holding out a cross. “The lord’s orders.”

Remus shouted as someone came at him from behind. He grabbed his attacker’s arm and threw him at the men holding Thomas down. 

“I said  _ let him go. _ ” Remus stalked toward them with a snarl. 

“I wouldn’t do that,” one of the men put his knee on Thomas's back and a knife at his throat. Remus froze. 

“Rem,” Thomas whispered. “I’ll be okay.”

A pair of hands grabbed onto Remus’s shoulders, but he did nothing. The knife was still dangerously close to Thomas’s neck. 

“Get on your knees.”

Remus didn’t reply with an innuendo that would have been typical for him. Instead he watched as Thomas was grabbed by his hair and forced to stand, his arms tied behind his back. 

Coarse rope bound Remus’s hands together. He could easily break out of the bonds if he wanted to, but not without running the risk of hurting Thomas. 

“Let Remus go! He has done nothing to you!” Thomas shouted. 

Remus tried to shake his head, to tell Thomas that it wasn’t worth it, but Thomas kept shouting until one of the men tore Thomas’s shirt and shoved the cloth into his mouth as a makeshift gag. 

Remus began to shout Thomas’s name before something clamped over his mouth and nose, pinching his face.

Remus opened his mouth to shout, but found he could just barely move his jaw. 

A muzzle.

He snarled at the men who had invaded his home, who had threatened his love-

“Shut it, animal,” the man behind him said, and a sharp pain blossomed in the back of his head. The last thing he heard was Thomas’s muffled shouts. 

When Remus came to consciousness, he tried to move his hands behind his head to take the muzzle of, but found his hands encased in metal gauntlets that had been chained to the cold stone wall behind him. Shackled had been attached to his ankles as well, but most horrifyingly was the metal plate around his waist, three thick chains running from his chest to the wall behind him and to each side. 

His eyes immediately adjusted to the darkness, and he saw an outline of a door at the far end of his cell. With his heightened senses, it was easy for him to tell that three or four humans were coming down the corridor, one of them familiar. 

The door opened with a creak.

“Remus! Remus, what did they do to you?” Thomas ran up to him, his hands free of his binds, and touched Remus’s cheek. 

He leaned in to Thomas’s hand and whispered, “I’ll be okay. You know they can’t kill me. I just want you to be safe…”

“I will. I’m okay now. But these- these people, Remus-!”   
One of the men yanked back Thomas. “Can’t kill you, but we can contain you.” 

Remus didn’t have time to react before the man grabbed Thomas by his throat, a strangled cry escaping him. Remus saw it happen, and could do nothing except thrash his chains to stop what he knew was going to be done. 

A glint of metal, and red began to pour out Thomas’s neck. Thomas collapsed onto the floor, coughing and choking on his own blood. Remus screamed, screamed until his throat was sore, screamed loud enough that it could surely be heard in the next kingdom over. Screamed for Thomas to be okay- he had to be okay, he had to! He had to get up, he had to smile again, he had to curl close to Remus on the cold nights, he had to stand up and laugh…

“Re- Re, it’s going to be okay. I love you, Remus,” Thomas choked out. 

“You! You did this-” Remus pulled his chains as hard as he could, he snarled as the men stepped back. The chains creaked where they were attached to the wall, stringing against Remus’s vampiric strength and fury. 

With a surge of courage, the men ran forward to restrain Remus. He fought, thrashing at the ones that in one slice had taken everything he cared about. He was almost free- just one more tug and the chains would snap-

Suddenly a sharp pain hit him, and everything faded to black once again. 

When he woke, the first thing he heard were voices. For a moment, he thought his eyes were still closed. But no- he blinked once, twice, and his eyes adjusted. 

He was in a coffin. 

He began to shriek, to shake the box, to rattle the chains running from his wrists to his ankles, but to no avail.

The coffin jostled, and Remus knew he had been put into a hole somewhere. Repetitive thuds sounded from outside, until the voices were muffled, and still Remus screamed. 

He screamed until he felt his vocal cords would snap- now wouldn’t that be funny, he mused. He could take out his vocal cords and use them as lyre strings, and Thomas would laugh in the way that he always did when Remus said something gross. 

He spent his time in the darkness in his head. 

He could try to strangle himself with the chains. Then maybe he would see Thomas again, wherever he was.

He could punch through the coffin lid and let the first and worms in. Then maybe he would have something to take his mind off his thoughts. Or maybe the worms could go on his mind. 

Were his clothes decayed? Were his chains rusted? He had no way of knowing. Was the leather of his muzzle soft yet? 

There was no feeling in the dark.

Sometimes, when he tries really hard, he could hear things other than his own crazed laughter. Or was that even real? 

He didn’t know. 

Sometimes he could feel the coffin shifting. One time there was an earthquake and Remus rattled in his coffin like an instrument he had seen only a few times when a performing troupe came to town- it was shaken and produced a delightful clatter.

Now wouldn’t that be funny- to stick himself inside and instrument and be rattled around. Maybe Thomas would even sing something. 

Had the wood encasing him rotted away yet?

He didn’t know. 

He didn’t care, either. 

He had gotten so used to the darkness. It was almost a friend to him. 

If he ever left, he knew somewhere deep in the back of his mind that Thomas wasn’t waiting for him. 

If the wood had rotten, maybe he could stake himself. 

Maybe a thousand years from now, someone would find him here, impaled by his own doing. Would the person who dug him up know? 

Or maybe if he wasn’t dead by then, he could jump up and shriek and scream the unlucky discoverer. He would laugh as they ran away. 

Maybe he would eat them.

Maybe he would kill the human, just as Thomas had been killed, with a knife to the throat and a shove to the ground. 

Or maybe that was too merciful. 

Maybe he would kill them all. Every human. Then it would be only him left on the earth. 

Remus stewed in his anger, in his fantasies of revenge.

His chains had rusted. The leather of his muzzle had gone soft. His clothes were worn, the wood had rotted.

Yet Remus didn’t move.

He wasn't dead- no, that would have been far too peaceful for him.

Instead he was in the only place that the humans had left untouched. His mind. Though perhaps it wasn’t entirely untouched. Everywhere Remus looked in his dream-world was  _ off _ . 

The creatures in the dream-world had a few too many limbs, eyes that were a little too yellow, fur that was just a little too coarse. But now they talked-

Wait.

There were sounds.

Remus was shaken from his dream-world of towers and princes and creatures by- movement?

Yes- he could feel the coffin shifting. 

It wasn’t like the earthquake he had experienced, where he bounced uncontrollably. He strained his ears and- voices?

He could just make out a few words. “V,” “don’t,” “gross,” “cool,” and “bolt cutters,” were all he was able to hear. But then- then a horrible crunching noise came from outside, followed by a squeaking and a gasp. 

Remus closed his eyes, the sudden light- light! The light poured over him, blinding after an eternity in the pitch black.

“Who-”

“What-”

“How-”

Were all the words Remus heard stutter out from the humans as they disappeared out of his sight. 

Remus began to speak- well, tried to, anyways. The muzzle, even after who knows how long, still held his jaw mostly shut, and it didn’t help that he hadn’t used his voice for anything except screaming. “H- hello. Help.” Was all Remus managed to get out along with a weak attempt at a grin. 

One of them reappeared over the lip of the coffin with what looked like a weapon. Was the human going to kill him? Remus didn’t have the energy to care.

But instead of plunging the metal through his chest, the human put the chains attaching Remus's wrists to his ankles between the blades.

With a snap, he could move again.

He could  _ move! _

Grabbing at the sides of his prison, Remus began to heave himself out of the position he had been forced into for… a long, long time. Eventually he managed to sit up, and suddenly his fantasies of a massacre of the human race felt unneeded and quite honestly too much work.

Remus raised his hands above his head and began to attempt to take the muzzle off- the horrible, horrible thing that had been forced on him.

“Let me help,” the human with the weapon said. “Can I touch you?”

It took all of Remus’s effort to nod, and a minute later, he could open his jaw. 

“Thank… you.” Remus cringed at how his voice sounded, somehow squeaky and raw at the same time. 

“Do you need help getting out?” The human reached out a hand, which Remus looked at with distrust, yet he took it anyway. The worst that could happen was that he would be put back in the box, right?

Once he was standing, Remus finally got a good look at the human, and almost fell down again.

“Thomas?” He cried.

“I’m not- that’s not my name. My name is Virgil, what’s yours?”

The human- Virgil? Thomas? They looked so alike…

“Thomas… do you not remember?” Remus put up a hand to the human’s cheek, who flinched away.    
“I think you have me confused with someone else. What’s your name? We can, uh, take you to the hospital. Or the police station.”

“Hospital…” Remus muttered. “What is that?”

The first human, who called himself Virgil, looked at the other human and whispered, “Is this dude okay?”

Remus had gripped Virgil’s wrist and kept repeating, “Thomas, Thomas… It’s me. Please remember…. You have to remember me!”

“Look, buddy, I don’t know anyone named Thomas. Are you alright? Janus, I think we should, ah, take him to the hospital. I don’t know who the fuck he thinks I am. I don’t even know who the fuck he thinks he is. And these circumstances we found him in are like Buzzfeed Supernatural levels of wacky.”

Remus felt hands on his shoulders, and let the humans move him into what looked like a horse drawn carriage, but with no horse and made of metal. Remus couldn’t find the energy to care where the humans were taking him. 

Maybe they’d try to stake him. 

Or decapitate him. 

Or throw him in a church and watch him write in pain. 

Maybe they’d tie him to a fire and watch as he burned without dying. 

Maybe he would be tied to a rooftop and be burned by the sun. 

Only decapitation could really kill him, and if that happened, he resolved he wouldn’t even try to fight. 

There was no point anymore. 

He was only dimly aware of Not-Thomas leading him through doors that opened on their own into a room that smelled of sickness and more humans. 

He only stared as another human walked in and forced him to lay down on a cold table. 

He could kill her, if he wanted to. He could kill all of the humans in this horrible smelling place. 

But he didn’t want to. He didn’t care. He didn’t have the energy. Instead he moved back into his dream-world, where everything was better. 

He knew there were humans crowding him, talking to him, poking him and touching him and-

He only thrashed when he felt himself being strapped down onto the cold table with an unfamiliar kind of scratchy cloth. 

He bared his fangs, and though some humans jumped back, most just fought him more, until his arms and legs were immobile. 

“Just kill me already! Kill me!” He screamed. 

But he didn’t die. He was still alive even after the humans dressed in white left the room. Still alive after the lights turned off. 

Still alive when Not-Thomas came into the room and said, “I don’t know who Thomas is, but I want to help you. Can you tell me your name?”

“Remus. If you really want to help me, cut off my head.”

Remus closed his eyes and escaped once more into his dream-world. The dream-world was so much better than the real one.

Remus decided then and there that he never wanted to leave his dream-world again. The real word didn’t have Thomas in it anymore, so why bother?


End file.
